Page 8 of An Unexpected Ascension (A War Between Worlds #1)

The Demon

That little tug pulls at my chest the moment I leave the Angel. I can’t seem to rid myself of it. It’s not like the annoying little buzz that vibrates within me, calling me to do my damn job.

No, this tug... It’s like each rib bone is being yanked from my chest until I succumb to the lure and follow it to its end, always the green-eyed Angel. I don’t fully understand it yet. There’s no stamp of damnation on her, she isn’t another fallen angel.

As I continue to ponder the conundrum, I find myself in the center market. Yes, there may be that incessant ache in my chest now, but I home in on the familiar little buzz, finding my next victim.

Chapter 9

The Angel

The moment I leave the cave, the pace of my heart returns to normal. I even notice the way my skin instantly dries, the clamminess of fear dissipating. Though, there’s still a slight tremble in my fingertips like the aftershock of touching faulty wires.

I clench my fist to quell the shivering.

Halfway into my journey back home, someone shouts my name. Spinning, I find Anthony jogging toward me to catch up.

“Sorry, didn’t meant to startle you. I just thought we could keep each other company.”

Dimples form on each cheek of his boyish face as he smiles down at me. I’ve always guessed him to be late teens or early twenties.

“Of course. How are you?”

I ask, resuming my stroll.

“Good! I just met a friend in the field of daisies over by the garden, have you seen it yet?”

“No, but it sounds lovely.”

“It is! Just breathtaking. There are so many beautiful places in Heaven. It’s like God has made a sanctuary for each and every one of us. It’s such a blessing.”

I can’t stop the slight twitch in my smile, it happens all on its own.

“Yes, just a blessing.”

I say the words, but my chest feels hollow. As I think them over, I’m not sure I even believe them.

“Have you ever been to Galsip Falls?”

I ask, crossing the street into the next neighborhood.

We grow deeper into the slums, the beautiful colors of the houses quickly fading to gray.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“No, can’t say that I have. I’ve heard most folks avoid that landmark like the plague.”

“Why? It’s so peaceful and you can swim.”

He shrugs, flipping his ball cap backwards, a little piece of his blond bangs poke through the hole of the closure.

“Rumor has it that the demon is seen a lot over there.”

My mouth falls into a frown, and I wonder why Will has never mentioned that before.

“Really? Has he ever... condemned anyone who wasn’t meant to be condemned?”

“Not that I know of. For the most part, he’s just a black cloud on a sunny day, you know?”

“Yeah.”

I don’t get the chance to ask Will about the rumors of Galsip Falls and the demon. He still hasn’t come around. A part of me wants to summon him here, but I think that may be rude. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what the etiquette is on that, but the last time, he didn’t seem too pleased. Instead, I find myself bored, staring at my grey walls.

Days go by and even though I’ve recited a million Hail Marys, only fifty of them count. Maybe I wasn’t paying much attention while tracking.

What’s worse is my memories are blurry again as if the reel to my movie has been scratched or smudged with fingerprints. The pictures flicker in and out, tormenting me. At this point, I’d rather relive nothing than have to deal with the utter annoyance of it all.

I’d annoy my neighbors, but Sarah May has officially moved into her new home, and John just snarls at me grumpily every time I wave to him from my front door. Besides, he’s not known for his good company.

I pace my living room, walking in circles around the cement bench. There’s this nagging little thought in the back of my brain just begging me to go back to the falls, to visit the cave again, but then I run the possibility of encountering the demon again.

Perhaps I’ll visit the Garden of Eden on my own today. I can always go back when Will finally decides to show up.

Yes, to the garden.

Just through the forest, past the falls, and to the garden...

Except, my body jerks to a halt at the foot of a familiar cliff. Without so much as a thought in my head, I begin to climb.

Screw the demon, he doesn’t own this cave. Besides, it’s perfectly empty today. With that reassurance, I find a seat on the damp ground and tuck my knees into my chest, wrapping my arms around them, and let the memories flood forward.

“What are you doing here?”

I whisper shout, pushing up my bedroom window.

“I needed to see you.”

Matt’s blond hair was soaked with the light autumn drizzle and his clothes cling to his skin as he climbs into my room.

“It’s a school night and I still have to study for the ACTs.”

“You have so much time to study. ACTs aren’t until spring.”

He inches closer and I let his lips touch mine while his fingertips graze my nipples still covered by a free blood donor T-shirt with a shredded hem. When that touch descends toward my rolled shorts, I push him away.

“My mom is right downstairs.”

“Then lock the door.”

“We said we would wait. Until Prom, next year,”

I remind him as he brings our mouths together again before locking the door for me.

And then, he’s kicking off his shoes and pulling off his shirt.

“We don’t have to go all the way tonight. I just...”

He sighs.

“You know how my dad is sometimes. I just need you right now. Can you be there for me?”

My heart sinks.

“Of course.”

Matt leans me against the bed, lowering me onto the mattress. His kisses are hurried and sloppy, like a teenager overwhelmed by hormones. What starts as heavy petting ends with scattered clothes and a broken promise.

“Ah, so you didn’t wait until Prom. You can never trust anyone with a cock.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand at the teasing voice as it rolls over every inch of the cave and settles in my sternum. I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew the risk.

I glower at the demon as he comes up beside me and drops to the floor. I pretend I don’t see the way the leather sleeve of his jacket grows taught with movement as his muscles swell to support his weight while leaning back. Then, with all the arrogance in this world, he straightens his legs before him and crosses his ankles, looking mighty comfortable.

“Nope. No. What are you doing here?”

He pats his chest.

“That tug, remember?”

“Ugh! Can’t I get some privacy? If you’re not here to drag me to Hell, then leave me be please. I’d like to cure some of this boredom. I’m going insane.”

He snickers.

“What a way to do it, huh? There’s nothing like losing your virginity.”

I can feel a growl churning low in my throat, ready to burst its way out.

“But surely you have better memories.”

“Not doing this.”

I cross my arms and wait for him to leave.

Only, he doesn’t. Instead, he nods his head towards the wall of water.

When I look, I realize it’s not my memory. No, it can’t be because the man in the scene is entirely covered by black ink. Every inch of him. Suddenly, my mouth dries.

His artful hand skims down a glistening torso, trailing over ribs and down the belly of a beautiful and very naked woman. Before those fingers dip between her thighs, I turn away.

“I didn’t ask for that.”

“Thought I would share. Your turn.”

I scoff.

“You’re insane.”

In the corner of my eye, his memory is still playing. The cave fills with little pants and moans, bouncing off the walls and landing directly in my ears. The noises soon grow into cries of pleasure and then a masculine grunt forces a blush to my face.

Frustrated and embarrassingly flustered, I push myself to stand, but his hand grasps mine. The contrast is mesmerizing between us. The stark black ink swirling in patterns around each finger, climbing up over his wrist and disappearing into the sleeve of his jacket against the clean, pale skin of my own.

“Okay, okay. It’s gone.”

Looking over, I find he’s telling the truth. Nothing but water glistens back at me.

“Sit? Please?”

Reluctantly, I give in to his request. Not because he asked nicely, but because I’m intrigued as to what he wants and why he’s here. If he’s looking for a friend, I’ll have to break it to him that he’s so out of luck.

There’s a brief moment that lingers in time where I allow my eyes to study his face. I start with the slope of his straight nose, fighting the urge to run my finger down it. Then drop my gaze to his full lips and a jaw that’s shadowed with day old stubble, perfectly trimmed and cut to perfection. His tattooed hand catches my attention again as it combs through his dark hair, which finally brings me to land on those roiling blue eyes. Eyes the color of navy, of the ocean’s depth, of midnight skies back on Earth.

As I drink him in, I find the demon doing the same. Only, where my stare ends with his eyes, his settles on my lips.

“What are you looking at?”

I whisper.

And instead of answering me, he asks.

“Don’t you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

Lifting his fingers, he drags the backs of them along my thigh. Slowly. From the hem of my shorts down to my knee. I shudder at the sensation and fight the way my eyes want to respond with a flutter.

“Human contact. The tickle in your core at the subtle touch of another or perhaps a quick fuck to satiate that starvation between your thighs?”

My skin pebbles when his fingers trail back up and he doesn’t miss the way my body reacts. I swallow, anxiety a ball of nerves festering in the pit of my stomach.

“No,”

I breathe.

“I think you’re lying again. Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

A sudden panic blooms.

But then he smiles. A slick, charming, devilish smile that melts that ball of nerves and births a cluster of butterflies flitting about. A warmth sinks into me dripping down my spine and flooding my core.

“Humor me, Angel. Unless you’re afraid.”

Afraid? Not a chance in this universe am I afraid.

Okay, maybe that’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. So, I don’t let him miss the way I roll my eyes before allowing them to close.

With hands gentle and firm, he places one at the back of my head, then one to the center of my chest and lays me on the ground. Alarmed at my new position, I peak, sneaking a look at the demon’s face.

“Naughty girl,”

he teases, cutting my sight with his palm.

“Wait!”

I cry out, wrapping my hands around his. He lets me move him easily, quirking a brow.

“You won’t trick me and damn me to Hell, will you?”

A soft, amused chuckle rumbles his chest.

“If I tell you I won’t, would you believe me?”

I take a long heartbeat to consider his words and realize no, I wouldn’t believe him, but a small part of me is still curious about what will happen next. Finally, I offer a slight nod, and he places his hand back over my eyes.

When he speaks, his breath tickles the shell of my ear.

“Now, be honest with me, Angel. I have ways of finding the truth,”

he warns, pausing briefly to let his words register before continuing.

“Are you familiar with a certain type of ache? It's one that hurts so fiercely without any end, but it's not pain itself. There’s not a bit of sadness in this ache. No, it can only be described as a longing. A delirious yearning for something to fill you, light you on fire, and become you. It forms right here.”

His hand drifts from my face, hovering over my chest and down my stomach, landing with a gentle pressure on my lower belly.

“Over time it tightens, clenches, and twists begging to be fed, but that hunger only grows.”

There’s an odd sensation that forms in my stomach right below his palm. It almost feels as if he’s speaking this ache into existence. My breath catches in my throat, and my lungs begin to work overtime.

“You beg for relief, pray for it even, but no God will listen because you owe your suffering and suffering you are. That ache, it screams inside of you. It pleads for something, anything, to wash it away and let it rest. Tell me, Angel, do you ache?”

I don’t need to even think about his question. With the way my skin begins to burn and the emptiness in my belly growling like an animal waiting to be fed, I can’t deny it. Somehow, he knows and presses down against my stomach again. It triggers a rush of heat to flourish between my thighs.

Biting my lip, I nod. Barely, but I do.

“Yes, yes you do.”

His whisper caresses the nerves in my body, igniting a spark that trails from my ear to my toes.

“I can be that reprieve your body needs.”

The pressure along my belly moves south. He inches, pushing my boundaries, silently asking permission. The second his thumb brushes the apex of my thighs, I yelp. As my eyes fly open, my grip digs into his wrist, and I shove him away.

I pant, a near hyperventilation, my mind whirling with terrible, sinful thoughts all because of this demon.

This is Heaven! It shouldn’t matter that this cave is technically a blind spot for the Gods, I shouldn't be letting him touch me like this.

But that ache he created inside of me isn’t going away. If anything, it grows worse. Like kindling to a fire that can’t be extinguished. All because of that one little brush of his thumb between my legs. It ignited a pulse, a beating, a restless desire for more.

A smug little smile crawls across the Demon’s face.

“How dare you touch me like that?”

My words may be a warning, yet my delivery is anything but. Breathy and flustered and so terribly hot, I undermine myself.

“Just having a little fun with you, Angel.”

“Stop calling me that! I have a name!”

“Yeah? Remind me then?”

The bastard has the nerve to lean forward and brush his thumb along my chin. It infuriates me the way he’s so calm about this.

Slapping it away, I growl.

“Briar Fenton.”

“Fenton.”

The demon plays with my name along his tongue, tasting it, testing it.

“And yours is Hermes, right?”

I spit his name like a sour taste on my tongue.

“Why? Do you plan on screaming it later when you beg me to let you come?”

Scoffing, I climb to my feet, repressing that ache until I can no longer feel it. He follows, and I try to ignore the way his muscles shift again beneath his black leather jacket when he adjusts his stance.

He’s large compared to me and it’s alarming the way he uses his size to intimidate me.

“Fenton,”

he tries again, my surname a flint used to spark a fire.

“Fenton... as in Fentonelli?”

My mouth opens to object, but I soon realize that he’s right. After the fourth generation of our family being picked off one by one by the devil’s luck, my great grandfather had changed his last name in hopes of changing his future.

The hesitation on my face gives me away before I have the chance to protest.

“Well, isn’t it my lucky day?”

The cave fills with his dark chuckle, drowning me in its mordacity. Naturally, my feet retreat, but he doesn’t allow me to get very far.

Cold, rough fingers wrap around my neck, tightening with a fierce grip. The touch so polar opposite to the one moments ago, and I can’t say I like it any more than the last.

“W-what are you doing?”

Panic strikes, rendering my mouth as dry as a desert.

My fingernails claw at his wrists as he continues to squeeze. Slowly, I feel my feet drag along the floor of the cave as he forces me closer to the cliff. Mist from the violent water clings to my hair and skin as those endlessly dark eyes promise nothing but sin.

A fractured squeal betrays any bravery I was trying to muster as my left foot nearly slips past the edge. My fingers tighten their grip on the demon, desperate to gain purchase against the ground.

“An angel, thought to be so pure while stained so thoroughly with sin. I think I changed my mind. Hell would suit you well.”

“I-I didn’t do anything! I still have time to repent!”

“Oh, I can’t wait to play with you.”

“Stop! Hang on.”

His nostrils flare as I snap my fingers and, in my hands, appears the rule book. Ignoring the way he rolls his eyes, I frantically search for anything to do with damnation. Can he really do this? Can he drag me to Hell without so much as a justified reason?

Before I can even flip to the right section, he’s tearing the book from my hands and whips it past the edge of the cave. I watch in horror as it plummets down into the pool below.

“You can’t do this.”

I seethe.

“I don’t deserve it.”

A sardonic laugh ripples across the walls of the cave, slithering and taunting my insides.

“No, you deserve so much worse.”

“Wait—”

In slow motion, his fingers unravel from around my neck, releasing me with enough force to push me past the edge. His face twists into another smirk as I plummet between the wall of water and rock.

Time catches up to me in a matter of seconds, my back slapping against the flat surface of the pool like crashing into glass. I expect a searing pain to lance through me, but I feel nothing, even as I tumble below the water underneath the fall, the pressure like boulders in an avalanche.

By the time I find my way to the grassy shore, he’s gone.